


walk the deck my captain lies

by evrydices



Series: Eugene Ryder [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10627056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evrydices/pseuds/evrydices
Summary: Everyone grieves differently.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's only a matter of time before one of my interests make me put up something on this site.

i.

“ _He’d insist we grow stronger from his passing_.”

There’s a pause, followed by a soft laugh (not quite the right term; the wry smile on her features suggest this is far removed from the conventions of humor). “Not like he would insist anything else.” She reaches for the helmet and holds it in her hands. The little grief she had expressed earlier upon waking is gone, and he detects low levels of emotions associated with a loved one’s passing.

She attempts to stand up, to which he advises against until she’s sure she feels better.

There’s a grunt but she complies, passing the time with inquiries on the new capabilities that come along with being Pathfinder. She’s taken the role without much hesitation, yet acknowledges that she has a lot of things to do to earn the title from her father respectfully.

 

ii.

His observations on the new Pathfinder conclude this: her father’s passing took a relatively long time to properly sink in. Outside, the Pathfinder is professional, except towards Director Tann where her smile is all teeth, and her experience with Prothean researchers back in the Milky Way makes itself obvious with her language, especially when conversing with Suvi Anwar.

Inside, is a verge. He has observed that she is prone to clenching her jaw most of the time, and on the few occasions she’s managed to catch herself in the act, she eases herself, but in a few moments the tension returns. Ryder manages to see the larger, more obvious things: when her fingers twitch at her sides, she pulls them into fists and stretches them back after a couple of counts. Sometimes, sound would blur out like the time Liam Kosta stood beside her right before the descent to Eos — this incident has made Ryder retract from talking with any of the crew beyond the rounds she has put in schedule herself.

Staring off is something she does, more frequently with every passing day. Once, she had fixated herself on the Tempest’s planetary holo for a solid hour, only disturbed when large priorities had come needing immediate attention. She brings extra hot coffee with her as a result, in an attempt to avoid it, but the solution failed; Ryder acquires a taste for cold coffee instead.

 

“Pathfinder.”

“Yes, SAM?” She removes her attention from her email terminal and fixes it on him.

“The recent development in your behavior gives rise to concern.”

Ryder gives him a small smile, barely anything but a twitch to the corners of her mouth. “Nothing gets past you, doesn’t it?” she says, but her brows knit over, considering her words. Ryder shakes her head. “Sorry, that sounded artificial, coming from me. Please contact Dr. T’Perro; I’ll head to the medbay in a few.”

“Understood, Pathfinder.”

 

iii.

Ryder wakes up gasping and out of breath, her arm stretched out to the ceiling. SAM knows it’s the same nightmare. Her last memory before her death. She remains still on the sheets, shaking her head out of it.

“Are you alright, Pathfinder?”

It’s approximately fifteen minutes before he receives an answer. “Yes, I am,” she says, “Thank you.”

Then, Ryder fetches herself a cup of coffee and reviews the reports Cora had recently filed in. Ever since consulting Dr. T’Perro, the coffee’s a little less tepid when it reaches her lips. She views the planetary holo, still staring off, but it is likely she is considering the order of missions she’s to accomplish the next time she goes planetside, mapping routes to maximize efficiency, among other things. “SAM, is Dr. T’Perro awake?”

“I’m afraid not, Pathfinder,” he responds. “Is there something you need to discuss?”

She purses her lips. “It’s different, this time. The nightmare.”

“What is different?”

Ryder looks as if she regrets even considering to confide in him. There’s a long pause in their conversation, and SAM observes she’s more like this with him than with anyone else on the Tempest. Perhaps it’s because of how he is integrated in her system, how he is more aware of her than she is herself, and given that Ryder is a private person on all fronts, it’s possible he comes as a discomfort. Yet she doesn’t push him away, or pointedly ignore him, reduce him to nothing more than a program and aide.

“I couldn’t see my father’s face,” she replies. "It was... his face was blurred. Smudged." 

“Do you want me to provide probable causes?”

“No, that won't be necessary.” 

After that, SAM notices a new development: a family picture on her bedside table, and how she sleeps with her body curled towards it. It doesn’t stave off the nightmares, but she’s quicker, now, in responding to his questions on her state of being.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! It's a little dry, I think. Might be because of how my Ryder is, but it may also be because I'm drawing from SAM's point of view. Given time, these two will shine. Hopefully.


End file.
